Disclaimer: Characters and past storylines belong to the series creators and George R.R. Martin.

After great pain, a formal feeling comes – The Nerves sit ceremonious, like Tombs –
The stiff Heart questions 'was it He, that bore,' And 'Yesterday, or Centuries before'?
The Feet, mechanical, go round – A Wooden way…

This is the Hour of Lead – Remembered, if outlived,
As Freezing persons, recollect the Snow –
First – Chill – then Stupor – then the letting go.

from After Great Pain, A Formal Feeling Comes by Emily Dickenson

Daenerys

æ

With Yara secure in her seat, she sailed North. Theon and his lady sister remained in Pyke, as she thought it prudent not to bring any ironborn on this trip to Winterfell. There was no love between the northerners and the islanders, and she knew once she secured the rest of her kingdoms, she would have to try end that feud, and it would not be easy.

Missandei and Greyworm accompanied her, as well as a large group of her Unsullied and a few Dothraki who wished to see the snow. She had thought to bring Tyrion, but they could not both be away from the capital, not yet, and lord Varys was not a suitable replacement. No southern lords would suit her neither, not in the North, so she only brought the East with her, and hoped there would be no conflict. It was not her way to be accommodating, but Lord Tyrion told her that it would be easier to sway the northerners to her side if she did not bring their enemies or the South with her, and so she complied.

They docked in the Sunspear then took two smaller boats up the river to Torrhen's Square, where they spent the eve. In the early morning they travelled by horse, and would surely reach Winterfell by nightfall. She'd made sure she and her company were well bundled for their journey and stay, though it was still cold. Lord Tyrion had a cloak made for her trip north, and she was grateful he had. It was dark and made of tightly woven wool lined with soft fur, and it had a hood with a thick black fur trim that covered her ears even when pushed back. It was bulky but it kept her warm, and she did not mind.

When they arrived, the gates were open and torches lit the way in. When she set her eyes upon him, the heart in her breast pumped faster, her blood rushing through her veins as if it thrilled in something she knew not. She was glad for the thick wool and fur that covered the burn on her cheek, and the chill that ran through her body.

He did not wear a crown, nor jewels or gold, but beside him sat a large white wolf with red eyes, and he looked like a king. She was not sure what she'd expected, but he was not at all what she thought. He was not tall and imposing, instead he was somber and gentle. Two thin scars slashed at either eye, and she briefly wondered how many others littered his body. She was surprised to find that the idea sent a thrill between her legs.

So as not to give herself away, she did not touch him as they walked side by side, and did not look back when they parted, and so she could not be certain if he watched her leave, though she felt his eyes on her till she was out of sight.

æ

After supper and she was settled in her chambers, Greyworm returned to the guest house with his men, and the Dothraki, while Missandei remained at her side, as did a guard of four unsullied.

"What did your Grace think of King Jon?' Missandei asked as she undid one of Daenerys braids.

She knew the girl meant nothing by it, but she was not sure how to answer. He was handsome, of that she was sure, but he seemed sad and guilt ridden, as if he carried a great load on his shoulders.

She decided on a playful answer, "He seems a fair ruler, though a bit on the brooding side."

The girl from Essos giggled lightly. "Perhaps he was Unsullied in a past life your Grace."

"Perhaps, though I hope not, at least not entirely," Daenerys smiled.

Missandei blushed when she got her meaning, but did not say anything.

That night she slept restlessly, and she dreamt of Rhaego and the night he died, and of blood...

Then Missandei was shaking her, her voice trembling, "Your grace, your grace, please wake up."

Her eyes fluttered open, and suddenly her stomach ached, and she felt wetness between her legs. Her friend had not removed the furs, so she did, and she saw it. Her night gown and some of the mattress was wet with red.

"Let me fetch someone to help you," The girl from Essos plead.

"No," She answered seriously.

"Instead fetch some cloths, some water and my other warm gown. And something for the mattress, we must remove the cover, but after."

When Missandei did not move she shushed her off, and finally the girl went to get what she required. She slid off the bed, and pulled her dress over her head. She moved to a chair, and naked, crumpled her gown and sat on it while she bled. She was not too worried, she'd not had her moon in some time, and it was sometimes heavy, though never quite like it was in that moment.

Her friend soon returned, and she cleaned up as best she could, made some bandages for herself, and threw her clean nightgown on, and had Missandei fetch her cloak and drape it over the chair she sat on. By the time morning approached, the bleeding had lessened and she felt hollow, but asked Missandei to request a hot bath, excruciatingly hot she had specified.

Thankfully, they had done as requested, and when she submersed herself in the near boiling water, she felt better. When she left the warmth of the water, she realized she wanted nothing more than to spend the day in her bed. It felt as if she'd lost something, though she did not know what. Missandei had cleaned it and changed the cover, and dressed in her woollen shift, she lied once more under the heavy furs.

She had Missandei burn everything that had been bloodied, and sent her to apologize and notify the King that she would remain in her chambers for breakfast. When she returned, he had sent word that all was well, not to hesitate if she needed anything, and to send word with his steward when she was ready. Shortly after, her meal arrived.

She felt a little better after she ate, and though she would send for his steward to meet him, she felt the need to stretch her legs before she did. Missandei braided her hair loosely and she put on her warmest dress and wore her heavy cloak, and though she would have preferred to go alone, her guard of Unsullied accompanied her to the Godswood. The yard by the East Gate was not full yet there were people moving about though they stopped and bowed as she walked by, their eyes heavy on her and her men. Once they were alone within the enclosure, she managed to convince them to wait there inside the gates.

The sun was still in the sky, though soon it would begin to descend. It was cold yet there was no wind, so it was not so bad. She walked amongst the trees, enjoying the silence and the sounds of the woods. It was her first time in a true Godswood; she'd roamed the one in King's Landing but it had only felt like a wooded garden. Here, she could not explain it, but she sensed something greater than she, something akin to what she felt when her dragons stood before her.

Though there was white all around her, when she saw the great white trunk near barren though some red leaves remained, she realized it was a Heart tree. She had only heard of them because of Ser Jorah, and she approached when she remembered he'd told her they all had faces carved into them. As she drew closer, she kept her eyes on the trunk searching for eyes, nose or mouth. Once she was close and still saw nothing she assumed she was on the wrong side and finally tore her eyes from the tree to move around it. And then she saw a figure seated by the small pool of water sharpening a long blade with a whetstone.

She quickly realized it was King Jon, and his eyes were closed so he did not seem to notice she was there. She stood still for a moment, deciding whether to speak or leave, and chose the latter as it seemed he was either in deep thought or in prayer. She turned to leave and suddenly there was a quick bark, from the direwolf she had not realized was lying beside him.

His eyes opened immediately, and as he looked around he saw her. His hand stilled but he did not remove the whetstone from the blade.

"Your Grace," He said, his voice sounding as if it were a happy surprise. "I hope you did not trouble yourself to find me."

"No not at all, King Jon," She answered lightly. "I did not know you were here, I only meant to get some fresh air. My apologies, I will interrupt you no longer."

She began to take her leave when he spoke.

"You do not interrupt anything Queen Daenerys, I only came for fresh air as well."

It was the first time he'd said her name, and she liked the way it sounded coming from his lips. He slid the whetstone one last time down the edge of his blade and then left it beside the rock he sat on and stood, sliding his steel into the scabbard at his side. He stepped towards her.

"And as I am here," He continued once he was before her, "I may as well pray to the gods of my ancestors, and sharpen my blade for the war to come."

War to come? She wanted to ask but didn't. She did not truly bow to any god, the only beliefs she'd learned were the ways of the Dothraki, but she had not though of their gods in a long time.

She nodded, but did not know what to say, and so said the only thing that came to mind. "It is a beautiful tree."

His lips went up slightly before he spoke, "It used to frighten me as a child. My brother Robb-"

He paused, and she remembered Tyrion had told her his brother had been killed, and by his silence, she knew he mourned him still. She'd only ever truly had Viserys, and he'd died in front of her and she'd felt nothing. She wondered what it must be like to have a brother or sister that was dear and close. He had five and clearly loved them all. Two were dead she knew, two were missing, and the only he had left was in the south with her uncle. She'd not been bothered by this fact, though she had hoped to meet Sansa Stark, to get a feel for her.

Her thoughts turned back to him when he resumed, "He used to tell me the sap that dripped from the eyes was blood of the dead past."

She had still not seen the face clearly, and turning towards the tree moved away from him as she took a few steps towards the face. It was carved simply, though there was great depth in the eyes, and she could see why such a face would scare a child.

She turned back to him, "That face would frighten me as well."

His expression softened but he seemed more solemn than glad.

"Its eyes, I always felt as it were watching me. Strange that I feel now only solace in its somber expression."

She understood this too, not from experience but because she knew, the old gods were the gods of his father, and Jon surely loved his father as he loved his siblings. It would not be kind to say as much, so she did not. Neither spoke for a few seconds, he seemed to be lost in thought and she did not know how to respond. She was not accustomed to sharing her feelings let alone dealing with others.

"Forgive me," He said finally, looking at her. The moment was gone, and his expression collected. He opened his mouth to explain himself but she spoke first.

"There is no need."

And then before he could respond, the earth felt shaky beneath her, her knees grew weak and suddenly the ground drew closer but before she collided into it, she felt a strong arm grasp hers and another at her back hold her up.

"Are you alright?"

She was not in fact, but she could not bring herself to admit it.

"Yes, I'm fine," She lied.

She moved to straighten herself out of his grip, but the dizziness returned, forcing her to lean back into him once more.

"Perhaps I should sit down for a moment," She said, giving in.

He nodded, and led her over to the rock he'd just been sitting on. The direwolf had not moved from his spot, and only whined a little as they approached. When she sat, the white wolf lifted his muzzle and sniffed in her direction. She realized he'd caught the scent of blood by the sudden glare in his eyes, but she did not let herself fear, she was the Mother of Dragons after all.

Instead, she smiled. "It may be he smells my dragons."

The king had also realized the wolf's sudden shift, but he did not seem to understand why.

"Ghost," He said then his voice steely and deep.

The direwolf turned to him almost immediately, and as they shared a look the animal calmed once more, gave her one last glance then laid his head down once more.

"I apologize your Grace, though he would not have harmed you."

Still feeling faint she answered softly, "No, I did not think he would."

His gaze lingered for a moment on his wild companion, and she closed her eyes hoping it might stop the ground from spinning. She realized now, it had not been a good idea to venture so far.

"How are you feeling?"

She opened her eyes to find him staring at her with a look of concern. Her lips turned up haphazardly in appreciation.

"I think I'll return to my chambers, it seems I've had enough fresh air for now."

She still did not feel well and was grateful the guard that had accompanied her in the end, were not far off. If need be, though she preferred it not, she could have one of them carry her up.

"Perhaps that is for the best," He replied with a nod, and held his arm out for her to take.

His concern was kind, though she resented him for it. This was not how she'd planned on their meeting going. She'd accepted that she would marry him, but she would not play the role of dutiful wife. She was Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen, and the North was hers, by right. She had intended to make sure he knew that if need be, she took what was hers with fire and blood. Instead, she was here, playing his guest and looking all the damsel, and him the gallant knight. Still, she took his arm, as she truly had no other choice.

His direwolf Ghost did not follow them as they departed to the entrance gate, though he watched them leave. They walked in silence, and she wondered if he sensed her unease. They reached her men then, looking cold though standing guard as ever.

She began to pull away from his grasp ready to part with her Unsullied when he spoke.

"I would feel better if I escorted you to your chambers your Grace," He said in the same attentive manner.

She nodded appreciatively, though she'd been slightly taken aback by the offer.

One of her Unsullied, who called himself 'Leech' lead them out, while the other three followed behind.

The silence resumed, that is until they reached the courtyard. The vast circular space was busy with work; women walking past with large containers in their arms, some with vegetables and others with meats, likely preparing for the evening meal. There were men training in the yard, some with sword and shield, others with bow and arrow. There was even a man, large in build with dark hair covering half his face, with a giant hammer in hand, hacking away at his opponent, not unskilfully.

She remembered suddenly her brother Rhaegar, and the usurper Robert Baratheon who'd slain him with the same sort of weapon.

"Your men, " The King said then, interrupting her thoughts.

She turned away from the man, bringing her eyes up to his.

"They are the last of the Unsullied, are they not?" He asked, sounding both awed and curious.

"And the first to be free men," She answered, her voice regaining some of her usual austerity.

"They are lucky to have found you."

She was sure he did not mean offence by this, and truly, in some way, they were luckier than most. But she could not help think on all those that had died in her name, and so she spoke without thinking.

"As lucky as the Wildlings were to have found you."

By his response she realized she had pierced too deeply, and regretted herself. Embarrassed she turned away from him, her eyes trying to fixate elsewhere. It was then she noticed, that even though the courtyard bustled with movement, all attention was on them. She was sure she was overreacting as they could not have heard, but they all seemed to look at her with resentful eyes.

They reached the Great Keep as she meant to apologize, so she waited for Leech to lead them inside using the time to find the right way to explain herself.

"I beg your pardon King Jon," She began, once the door was closed behind them.

He finally turned to her and she felt all the more terrible by the pained expression on his face.

"There is no need," He answered solemnly, repeating her earlier words. "It was I who spoke out of turn first."

"Without intention," She countered. "Sometimes the fire of the dragon gets the better of me."

He did not speak, only gave her a tight nod before turning his gaze forward. They reached the stairs and ascended, only the sound of their steps and those of her men, filling the air around them. She'd long since forgotten her ailments, and though she focused on something to say, she could not find the words.

She was not accustomed to this feeling of regret and shame, and as they continued to walk, she felt it more and more, and began to resent him for it. She was the Queen, and she'd apologized though he'd crossed the line first, but she had not held it against him. Yet it seemed as if he meant to hold it against her. Fire built in her blood, so that by the time they reached her rooms there was nothing but the fury of the Targaryen left in her.

She pulled away before he let go, and moved to the door Leech had already opened for her, only turning back to face him when she'd reached it.

"Thank you, King Jon for your attention," She spoke with ice in her tone.

She was not sure he noticed, and this infuriated her even more.

"I hope you feel better your Grace, and if you require anything only send word and Rolan will fetch anything you need."

With a bow, he excused himself and left. She did not watch him leave instead she turned to Leech and said, "Fetch Missandei. And have his man bring me a pitcher of wine."

He nodded, and she slammed the door shut behind her.

æ

It was late afternoon by the time she'd resolved to regain balance in their positions, and though she was not fully recovered, she sent word that she would like to discuss matters with him at his earliest convenience.

When his steward Rolan returned, he informed her that he would escort her to the King's solar whenever she pleased.

"I am ready now," She announced, standing.

He bowed, and moved towards the door and as promised, Rolan took her and Missandei to his solar. She looked around as she entered, and was surprised to find he was alone. She turned and gave her friend a nod and she remained outside, just as his steward bowed and took his leave.

She had already taken a seat across from him as the door closed behind them. There was a moment of silence where neither spoke though it did not last long.

"King Jon," She began, her voice steady and strong.

"As I'm sure you've realized, I did not travel all this way so that we may only talk. I do not know what you have heard of me, but surely you know our kingdoms cannot remain divided as they are."

She meant to continue but he spoke instead, "No they cannot."

This took her by surprise, but she did not address it, instead she resumed where he'd interrupted.

"I mean to unite the realms of man, by any means necessary. And now, only the North, the Vale and the Riverlands stand in my way."

"You mean I stand in your way. I would gladly take off my crown, if only it were true. And if I did not wish for the same thing."

She hesitated for a moment, as she did not understand his meaning. She did however, realize that he did not exactly intend on giving up his kingship. This displeased her even though she'd had no intention on asking him to relinquish it. So she could not help the acidic quality in her tone as she replied, "If it was your crown I needed, we would not be speaking now."

He seemed to have picked up on the tenor of her voice as he suddenly stiffened, his courteous demeanour suddenly gone.

"If it is not my crown you want Queen Daenerys, then what is it that you want?"

It would be easy, to tell him what she wanted. But for reasons she could not understand, his manner bothered her more than it should have. She took a deep breath, in an effort to diffuse some of the ire she'd been carrying since their meeting in the Godswood.

"I do not seek to start a war, but it will not do me to subdue a northern king as my ancestors once did. It united the kingdoms, but it did not bring peace. My father still killed your grandfather and uncle. Your father and half the kingdoms still rebelled and my family died."

She had not named her intentions, but her words seemed to diffuse him somewhat.

"Still you have not said what you want," He said then, trying to sound civil.

Daenerys thought it was obvious, though she hadn't come out and spoken the words, there were not many ways of uniting kingdoms that did not involve war.

"It is not obvious King Jon?" She inquired nearly smiling.

He frowned at her for a moment, and she almost wanted to laugh at him, as it was clear he did not yet realize what she meant.

"We must marry. It is the only way we will find true peace without bloodshed."

He froze then, it seemed it was not the answer he'd been expecting. Finally she did grin, feeling as if she had the upper hand once more. She decided it was a good moment to take her leave, before he could find his words.

She stood, "It is a lot to consider, I will give you some time to think on it."

"King Jon," She bowed, still feeling the smirk on her face, though she tried lessening the show of it on her lips.

She was nearing the door when he finally spoke.

"I am ready to accept your offer," He began, his voice firm.

It was her turn now to be surprised, but she refused to let it show, and turned to face him, trying to seem pleased in his acceptance. She opened her mouth to speak, but he did not let her.

"Though there is something that I want as well."

She wanted to tell him that he was in no position to make demands, and that he should consider himself lucky with the proposal she'd made. His realm might be larger, but his army was not, and her hand in marriage was a better deal than he seemed to realize.

Instead intrigued, she took a step closer and asked, "And what is that?"

He did not hesitate.

"The support of your army. And your dragons, when the time comes."

She was more taken aback by the request than she'd expected to be, and so for a moment she did not move nor speak.

"It is a lot to consider," He said then, a smile finding its way onto his mouth as he repeated her words, though it was genuine and unlike the grin she'd given him. He'd done it only once before, and she had been too cold to notice how becoming it was on him, and she had to admit, it was quite a sight.

"I will give you some time to think on it," He finished.

Her intention to keep the upper hand would not let her leave it at that.

"It is not time I need, but why."

I will tell you your Grace," His formality returning. Then he too stood and moved around the table and towards her, stopping before her.

He peered down at her, though he was not much taller than her, and while she was used to men gazing at her with lustful eyes, this was different.

"Though today is not the day. You are not yet fully recovered. And it is not an easy conversation."

She might have been angered by his words if not for the tone of them. He did not intend to belittle her, instead he actually seemed concerned. She would let him have this, just this once, only because she did in fact feel a little light headed. She would not say as much of course.

"Very well," She answered simply.

"I think I will retire, so that we may both think on what has been said today. As I am sure there are many details we will need to work out."

There were a few things on her mind already, one in particular, but he was right, today was not the day for that.

"As am I," He grinned politely, then moved to the door and opened it.

He waited for her to pass through it first before crossing himself and closing it behind him. He extended his arm, or rather the crook of his elbow, and despite herself, she hooked her hand around his forearm and accepted his silent offer to escort her back, Missandei and her guard following silently behind, though she did not miss the girl's amused expression.

After they walked for a bit, he finally spoke.

"Will you take supper in the Great Hall this evening your Grace?"

She looked over locking eyes with him and she was suddenly struck by a sense of familiarity so intense for a moment she was unable to answer him. She only remembered herself when she noticed he'd suddenly become uneasy in her silence, and though she was not sure exactly how long she had gazed at him it had been long enough that a light blush had creeped onto his cheeks. Remembering herself when she could not place it, she turned away, and from the corner of her eye she saw him do the same.

"Yes I think I will," She answered not looking at him, hoping she sounded ambivalent though she did not feel it.

She had missed the morning meal already and she did not think it wise to miss another. Or at least that is what she told herself.

a/n: Something I wanna say about Jon and Dany's relationship is that it is definitely a slow burn. Jon's chapter was more reserved because I imagine him uncomfortable in his new role, though knowing he has to play it, and for good reason, therefore being too nervous to really focus on anything else. As for Dany, and this chapter, I can't imagine her not trying to exert her power over a man she does not know, who is king of lands she considers her own, thereby forcing her to deny her own baser impulses.

They will definitely fall for each other, but I'm really enjoying playing on this kind of hot and cold (get it?) interaction and tbh, I can't imagine their meeting going any other way. Hope you like, and bear with me.

Thanks for reading, and reviewing and following my little story. You guys are the best.